


all that glitters is gold

by jaburr



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, M/M, Not Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 05:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18309206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaburr/pseuds/jaburr
Summary: They never tell you how bad it hurts to stay alive when all the ones you love have died





	all that glitters is gold

**Author's Note:**

> hey it's jaburr, coming back to make u all cry and then leave. enjoy! this hurt to write. comments, suggestions, constructive criticism and prompts as per usual are welcome!
> 
> title is from stairway to heaven, NOT smash mouth's all star. I am not a monster.

Healing takes time. It takes even longer when you don’t want the pain to abdicate just yet. It’s been a year, and Steve still won’t let himself heal. Rest is hardly an option, people always talk about how hard it is to sleep without their lover next to them. He lets the hot tears track their way down into his mouth, remembers Buck’s soft little snores that used to drive him crazy. he’s going crazy without them.

“Steve-“ He replays the moment behind closed eyelids every night. Bucky reaching for him, terrified, stumbling and turning to ash. they had talked about this, losing one another on the battlefield. Steve just hadn’t thought he’d be left behind.

“All I’m saying, Steve, is that there’s a chance we don’t win this fight. we’ve lost to less before.” Buck flicks off the bathroom light, his wet hair straggling around his face.

“And if we don’t win? Than what, Buck.” Steve entertains the idea to try and put him at ease, stares out the window at the vast expanse of land they’ll be sprinting to their deaths across tomorrow.

“I don’t know.” he paces the carpet, metal fingers flexing against his palm. “Steve- I can’t lose you.”

“There’s a possibility you might, seeing as you think we’ll get our asses handed to us tomorrow.” Steve cracks a weak smile as Buck turns to him, glowering.

He reaches for him, connects with his warm arm and tugs him down to the bed. Bucky settles down next to him, throws his head back to stare at the ceiling. “You’re not funny, you know that Rogers?”

“You love me anyways, Barnes.” Steve says, wraps an arm around his waist and Bucky moves closer to Steve’s side.

Buck had always been the strong one of the two of them, a martyr in the truest sense of the word. He had never been one to cry either, at least not in front of Steve. He feels wetness on soaking through his shirt as Buck lays burrowed in next to him, holding on for dear life.

“Let’s say we win, huh? Entertain a optimist here.” Steve brushes his hair back, trailing his thumb over Bucky’s temple. He's trying to be strong for the both of them, but he can hear the wavering uncertainty in his own voice.

“We’ll go home.” Buck says pointedly, as if they have somewhere to go. “Get a little house somewhere out in the boring Midwest, get the fuck away from all of _this_.” his voice bites on the last word. He sniffs.

Steve kisses his jaw, mouths at his adam’s apple and bites when he hears Buck’s breath catch.

“What are two Brooklyn natives like us gonna do in the Midwest.” He licks at the rut of Buck’s collarbone, blows out a warm breath across his skin.

“Fuck Steve, I don’t know.” He hisses, brings up his flesh hand to card through Steve’s hair. He kisses down Buck’s chest , rests his chin on his sternum and looks up into those watery brown eyes.

“Let’s not think about tomorrow just yet.” He says, skimming his fingers over Bucky’s ribcage.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Except Steve was wrong. Christ he was so goddamn wrong, optimism wasn’t a trait people like them should grasp onto. He watched Bucky die, reaching for him one last time. He feels like his heart has been ripped, still beating, right from his chest. It’s overwhelming and Steve can hardly stand it. They all lost someone, he knows, but they’re moving forward, accepting defeat. He can’t bring himself to. There’s nothing anyone could have done to stop it, to choose who lives and who dies. He just wishes it wouldn’t have been him left to try and move on. And Jesus does it hurt. Without Strange the work to find Thanos is tedious, but Stark finds a way. He’s driven, angry, thinks only of Peter fading in his arms. Steve gets that, and it’s fucked up but it brings them back to each other. Steve wears the worn out dog tags he’d kept on him since he came out of the ice, James Buchanan Barnes, looped around his neck. They’re so worn from age now, barely even James is readable. He vows to give them to Bucky when he sees him again. But there he goes again with that goddamn optimism. They fought, truly believed they’d won and as Steve watched the lights simply flicker out of the god’s eyes he felt it rise in him again. Bucky’s familiar scent was starting to become a distant, fondly frozen memory. He doesn’t materialize, nobody does. Stark falls into him, weeping, Natasha holds Clint and looks expressionlessly towards the sky. Nothing. Buck fading, stumbling, tripping at his feet crying his name floods his vision. It’s over now, and curse that fucked up notion that tomorrow will be okay. Steve clutches at the dog tags, rising and falling against his thumping chest. There’s no tomorrow with Bucky. All he has is that one last night, that one last morning waking up to Bucky snoring next to him, damp brown hair framing his face like a messy halo. Jesus he misses the snoring.

He goes to Iowa, after they’ve made it home. Burries that fucking shield deep below ground, takes the tags and trudges back to the little house in a sea of green grass.

“You see Buck? I got away from all of it.” He whispers into the tiny, empty house, runs the pad of his thumb over the etched out letters in the cool metal.

“I got away.”


End file.
